Behind Those Doors
by TheNobodyofNamine
Summary: Lovino is growing up, wondering what the emotions he feels whenever he's around Antonio are. He doubts that it's love, but how could he know if he's never experienced love before? Spamano
1. By Myself

**A/N****:** Hello everyone~ It's-a me, TheNobodyofNamine with something rare-a rated M fanfic~ And yes, I'm actually gonna finish this one. When it comes to smut...well, I just can't help myself. *SHOT*

**NOTE:** This fanfic contains boy/boy, masturbation, shota, brief incest and swearing. If you are offended by any of these, please don't read.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers, or any of it's franchise. I'm merely a fangirl who likes to cater to other fangirls. :3

* * *

><p>To the Spaniard, he was beautiful, and that's all there was to it.<p>

His pale skin that only grew paler in the moonlight, the constant blush on his round cheeks, his messy brown hair and his eyes. Oh, those eyes. They were an amber shade with hints of green. They were perfect. He was perfect.

To the young Italian, he was handsome.

Even though he would never admit it, he knew that the Spaniard cared for him. He made Lovino feel special, important, needed, wanted. And loved. He made the young boy feel loved.

Antonio wanted the young boy, and the young boy wanted him to be close by. However neither of them could admit to it. They knew it was wrong. Both males knew deep down that God would never forgive them and condemn them to the depths of Hell, where their souls would burn for all eternity.

That's why both of them knew not to speak a word of it. They both took different routes as to how they would show their feelings. As always, Antonio became much more affectionate, offering Lovino hugs and kisses daily and spoiled the young boy like there was no tomorrow. However, Lovino was afraid. What would other people think? What would his people think? So what could he do? Well, wasn't it obvious? He would push Antonio away, in hopes that he would stop caring about him, even though it would hurt him. It was the only way. He would battle against his emotions and bottle them up. It was only at night, in the privacy of his bedroom where he would release them.

"...b-bastard," the young Italian whined as he arched his back. "...m-more..." With closed eyes, Lovino began to tweak his pink nipples through his clothes with his small, unexperienced fingers until they became a tight peak. His mouth parted, allowing his aroused moans escape. His breathing became uneven as he hitched up his knees. God, he could only imagine the Spaniard touching him, telling him how beautiful he was in that low whisper of his that made Lovino melt. His cheeks flushed at the thought of it as a chill went up his spine and a small strand of saliva escaped his lips and dripped down to his chin.

He sat up immediately, beginning to unbutton the cursed dress that his beloved boss forced him to wear. He let some of it hang off of his shoulders as he unbuttoned the dress down to his stomach. Lovino leaned his back towards the head board as he hitched his knees up higher. He looked down at himself, wondering how the older man would look at him if he saw him in this state. Those emerald eyes would be full of desire and passion with a hint of never-ending lust.

"A-Antonio..."

Lovino closed his eyes once more and traced his chest with his hands, shivering at his own touch. He had always considered masturbation, but he never really went all the way through. He would start where he is now, caressing his own chest, then stopped after a few minutes of fondling. But no, it was going to be different tonight. He couldn't take it anymore, and it was that bastard's fault. Him and that damned smile of his; how he hugs Lovino so tightly, as if he never wanted to let go of him. And his smell, _God_, his smell. It was enough to drive the young boy to the edge.

Lovino put a single finger in his mouth, his small tongue coating it his saliva. When he felt that there was enough moisture, he brought the cool finger to his nipple, and began to rub it once more. His mouth parted again as he grew lost in pleasure that only himself and his imagination could satisfy for the time being. He closed his eyes as he brought his other hand to his unattended nipple, twisting and pulling at it.

"Ngh...h-haa...A-Antonio..." he whined, not that anyone else heard.

Or so he thought.

Antonio was always conscious of Lovino's activities. Of course, Francis had to point it out to him.

"_B-But," the Spaniard whined, "Lovi won't tell me what's wrong! He stays in his room all the time!" The blonde smiled playfully, while giving a knowing nod. "I keep telling you, mon cherie, that you should leave the boy alone," he repeated for the fourteenth time that day. "Besides, I could just tell you what he's doing," he said, a smirk forming on his lips. _

_Antonio's eyes beamed with happiness. "Really? You know what's wrong with him?" he asked. Francis nodded once more and motioned for Antonio to come closer. When the Spaniard obeyed, Francis whispered in his ear. With every word, Antonio's eyes widened in disbelief. _

"_N-No! Not my Lovi! He's just a baby..." Antonio said in disappointment._

"_That's how it is," Francis explained. "After all, he's going to be a teenager in several months. This is just a normal stage of life. And if you don't believe me, check his bedsheets the next time you do the laundry."_

Sure enough, the Frenchman was right. The next time Antonio washed the sheets (he had to argue with Lovino, who was fussing over doing it by himself), he saw it there: white, dried up cum spackled across the sheets. After that day, Antonio felt it best to leave the boy alone, since this wasn't really his area of expertise. If it was something about how to tend to a farm, or how to make paella, or how to play the guitar, Antonio would teach Lovino in a heartbeat. But the image of the young boy touching himself in places not meant to be seen by other people...it made the Spaniard hard just thinking about it. He shook his head. No, he couldn't-correction, he shouldn't-have thoughts like these. Instead, he just tried to ignore it and go back to his room.

Meanwhile, the Italian already had his developing member in his hands, pumping it up and down. He felt a shock run through his body, this being the first time his hands had ever gone south. His eyes shut tighter as he grabbed the head board with his free hand, bucking his hips uncontrollably.

"Antonio...Antonio..." he repeated, unable to get enough from his wild imagination. He felt a heat inside of him, tightening like a coiled spring, wanting to be released. He pumped faster, hoping that he would feel the wonders of his soon to be climax. However, once he was almost there, so close to his peak, his hand released his member, dissolving would-be pleasures. He caught his breath, and pulled his blanket up to his shoulders. In the end, he couldn't do it. He needed the older man.

* * *

><p>Hey, guys~ Yeah, a friend asked what my take on SpainChibiromano would be, so this is the result...so far. Actually, ths is one of the very few smut stories I will ever write, and the first one I've posted here on . Anyways, I'm still a bit rusty with everything, and I noticed that I was lacking some details, but oh well. At least I know to make the next chapter more...savory.

Until next time everyone~ Please send reviews~


	2. With My Brother

**A/N****: **Hey guys~ It's me with another chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it~ :3

* * *

><p>"Why the fuck do we have to go to<em> his<em> house?" Lovino muttered as he and Antonio walked towards the front of the house, waiting for the carriage to arrive. "He's just a stupid asshole, like the rich bastard he lives with!" Honestly, why couldn't Antonio understand that he _hated_ the Holy Roman Empire? It was obvious to everyone else, the way he glared at the other boy and how he ignored him whenever the other would try to start a conversation. The Spaniard shook his head and sighed. "Ay, Lovi, stop using such language," he lectured. The Italian stomped his foot on the ground in anger as his cheeks flared red._ How cute_, Antonio thought. He shook his head once more and mentally slapped himself. There was no time for such appreciation.

"I don't give a crap, bastard!" he shouted. "That fucker thinks he's all high and mighty!"

"Aw, but Lovi, you get to see your brother~ Don't you wanna hang out with him?" Antonio asked. The young boy merely stuck out his tongue. "Screw him," he spat, making the older man chuckle.

"Gladly," he replied jokingly, making the Italian's heart skip a beat. Lovino's face fell. He took the Spaniard's joke seriously. He always did. After all, his younger brother, Feliciano, was always the favorite. He hated how everyone babied him, fussed over him. To Lovino, his brother wasn't _that_ special. In fact, he almost _hated_ his brother-almost being the keyword. After all, you can't completely hate family, right? Or at least, that's what Lovino liked to think.

He crossed his arms and looked down at his brand new shoes that Antonio got for him yesterday. _Pft, he would probably get Feliciano something better_, he thought. Lovino puffed out his cheeks-one of his trademark quirks whenever he becomes upset-and did his best to keep his eyes from meeting Antonio's.

"Whatever, you stupid asshole," he muttered.

_Why does he have to make things so difficult?_

* * *

><p>The mansion wasn't nearly as big as Antonio's, but it was enough to make Lovino feel lost the moment he walked through the front doors. As he walked down one of the hallways-did they always seem this long?-with Antonio, he only became more confused. "Stupid bastards, living in a big-ass house," he spat as they continued, making Antonio let out a light laugh. "Does that mean I'm a bastard because I have a big house?" he asked playfully. The young boy merely looked to the side, a frown forming across his lips. "You'd still be a bastard even if you lived in a wooden crate," he said.<p>

"Would you two stop arguing and hurry up?"said Roderich as he walked down the hall from the opposite end. "Honestly, it's hard enough that you're late. Your bickering is just unbearable!" Lovino twisted his mouth before sticking his tongue out at the Austrian. "Shut it you twa-"

"Now, now, Lovi, I think it's time you go and see Feli, si?" Antonio said as he tugged on the boy's sleeve. "Behave for today, okay?" he whispered to the Italian before sending him off on his way. Lovino let out a _hmph!_ before storming off, muttering some phrases in his mother tongue that neither men could really understand. "Sorry about that, Roderich." Antonio said with a forced smile. "At least he's behaving a little better than before." However, the other man shook his head and heaved a pained sigh. "Well, let's not dwell on it for too long. We have some business to attend to, after all..."

Meanwhile, Lovino searched the house for his brother, confused at the maze-like hallways. "Feliciano!" he called out, hoping for some sort of quick answer. "_Fratello! Dove sei?_" Brother, where are you? No answer. Damn, this was frustrating. Just the thought of being in the same house as the Holy Roman Empire and Roderich was enough to annoy Lovino, but this labyrinth was just plain ridiculous.

"_Fratello_? Are you there?" Lovino heard from one of the rooms. He turned around, trying to figure out where his brother was. "Feliciano? Which room are you in? And answer me quickly this time, damn it!"

"I'm right here~" the younger Italian said as he opened the door. "Fratello! It's so good to see you!" he piped as he ran up to his older brother, giving him a welcoming hug. Lovino squirmed in his grasp with an uncomfortable expression on his face. "Yeah, yeah. The bastard dragged me over here with him," he muttered. Feliciano frowned at this. "So you didn't want to see me?" Lovino rolled his eyes at this. "You're my brother," he replied. Feliciano wasn't so sure about that reply, since it left his question unanswered. Knowing his brother, it could have meant that he was overjoyed to come over, or the exact opposite.

"So why the hell are you in a fucking dress?" Lovino asked as he crossed his arms. Feliciano beamed and spun around, making the dress float. "Don't you think it's pretty? Roderich and Elizaveta bought it for me the other day~" He took one of Lovino's hands with both of his and looked him up and down. "Aw, how come you're wearing pants? I thought Tonio had you wear one too..."

"W-What the fuck? I'm a boy, stupid!" Lovino shouted, his face completely red. "B-Besides, what's so nice about dresses anyways?"

"They're so comfortable!" the younger Italian giggled. "And the breeze in between my legs feels nice! Oh, by the way..." Feliciano quickly looked around, to see if anyone was watching them. "_Fratello,_ let's go into my room," he said as he pulled Lovino into the room he had came from.

The room was rather cozy. There was a small, modest bed in the farthest corner next to a wooden dresser. A writing desk rested on the opposite side of the room, underneath the window which was framed with olive curtains. The wooden floors shined, meaning that they had just been waxed. Feliciano dragged Lovino to his bed and forced him to sit down.

"What the hell?" he yelped as the younger brother went back to lock the door.

"Um, _fratello_, I have something to ask you..." he said as he looked down at his shoes. "Y-You see...sometimes, I get this weird feeling whenever I'm around Holy Rome..."

_Here we go_, Lovino thought. "What's so special about that bastard?" he muttered. Feliciano looked up, revealing his red face. "F-Fratello, do you feel w-weird sometimes?" he asked nervously, clutching onto his dress. The older brother raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'weird'?"

Feliciano brought his hand between his legs and slumped his shoulders, as if he were trying to conceal something. He had a few shaky starts before he gulped and gained the courage to talk to his older brother. "S-Sometimes, when I think of Holy Rome, I get...um...right here gets really hard..."

Lovino's eyes widened. _H-He's going through what I go through every night? _he thought. _And when he's thinking of that bastard? What the fuck? _The older Italian shook his head. "What the hell? So that bastard's making you feel like that?" Feliciano merely nodded in embarrassment. "I-I don't know how to make it go away," he said. "And I was wondering if you could help me..."

"No way in hell!" Lovini answered quickly. "We can't do _that_! We're brothers, and that's just gross!" But who was Lovino kidding? After all, he loved an older man. Was this just as bad? Or was this worse? He didn't know.

"_P-Please_...Lovino, just this once...I want the feeling to go away!" Feliciano pleaded. "B-Besides, I-I see the way you look at Antonio," he sad, making Lovino's body tense up. _How the hell does he know?_ the older brother's mind screamed. "W-We can help each other, _si_?"

What could he do? After all, Lovino was scared. He's never gotten that far into masturbation yet. He didn't know how an orgasm felt. He would always wake up to find that his sheets were wet, and he never recalled feeling a pleasurable surge beforehand. But he had to admit, Feliciano was right. Without even noticing, Lovino began to harden, just thinking about Antonio, and how he wanted something more than a boss-employee relationship.

"I knew it!" Feliciano exclaimed, point at his brother's crotch. He walked over to his brother and hugged him. "Please? Let's try it once, and only once, okay?" he whispered as he pushed his brother onto the bed. Since when was he so forceful? Lovino looked at his brother, almost unable to recognize him as he began to unbutton his dress and straddled Lovino's waist. Once most of his buttons were undone, Feliciano began to unbutton Lovino's shirt, sending a chill up his spine.

"W-Wait!" Lovino said as he placed his hands on his brother's. "I-I don't know what-" Feliciano's lips captured his brother's, cutting him off. Lovino did his best to fight it, but found it hard, as he felt himself enjoying the moisture on his lips. He began to kiss back, lost in his imagination once more as he felt a hand graze against his lower regions.

"Nghh...Feliciano, wait," he breathed as he lightly pulled his brother down next to him. "Lift up your dress and pull down your underwear." Feliciano wasn't sure what his brother was planning, but he obeyed obediently as the older of the two slipped off his pants. They both threw their underwear somewhere on the floor, their members quivering as they continued to harden. Lovino sat with his back against the headboard, something he was used to at this point and patted his thigh.

"Sit here," he said to his brother, who merely nodded and obeyed. "W-Will it feel good?" Feliciano asked as he sat down and wrapped his arms around the other one's neck. Lovino only nodded in response as his lips grazed his brother's cheeks. Then, he brought his hand to his member and brushed it against his brother's, making them moan at each other's heat. Impatiently, Feliciano began to buck his hips as he closed his eyes.

"T-Touch me..." he pleaded. Lovino shook his head as he began to rock his hips, his rhythm matching Feliciano's. "T-Touch yourself!" he shouted as he began to buck his hips into his own hands. Why should he pleasure his brother when he was already preoccupied with himself? Lovino just wanted to get rid of the ache building up inside of him.

"A-Antonio..." he moaned, his breathing becoming uneven.

"H-Here, l-let me help you," Feliciano said, still rocking his hips. He placed his shaking hands to Lovino's chest, his thumbs hovering above hardened nipples. He experimented with them, wondering how it must feel to be touched this way by _him_. He watched as Lovino's lips parted even more, his moans increasing in volume as he squirmed under him. Just by watching his brother, Feliciano's lips parted as his hips began to move more frantically. "...t-touch me!" he begged once more, looking into his brother's eyes with a needy expression.

"...o-okay," Lovino said. With his free hand, the older boy began to play with the other's nipple, twisting it between his fingers.

"N-Ngh...a-ahh! More!" Feliciano shouted, lost in his fantasy. He brought a hand back to himself, wrapping it around his erection, and mimicked his brother's movements, pumping up and down. He felt something strong gathering at the pit of his stomach, something that he needed to release.

"...f-fratello, something's coming!" Feliciano shouted as he pumped faster.

"A-Ahhhh, I-I'm coming too!" Lovino said in between gasps.

With every thrust into their hands, their aches reached their peak. Feliciano rested his head on his brother shoulders, letting out a loud moan as he came all over his brother's chest. Lovino did the same as he moaned Antonio's name over and over again like a mantra and came all over his brother. Both of their clothes had been soiled and they both looked unruly. But to be honest, neither of them cared at that moment. They were too busy trying to recover from their release.

* * *

><p><strong>AN****:**Okay, that pretty much sucked XD

I hope you guys forgive me for my crappy writing, and found some way to enjoy this chapter. Until next time, everyone~


	3. With My Brother: Part Two

**With ****My ****Brother-****-****Part**** 2**

"Ve, _fratello_~ The water feels great!" Feliciano called as he laid on his back the river, letting it carry him where it pleased. Lovino, however, sat alone on the side of the river next to his brother's soiled clothes and a set of new ones. Neither of them changed their clothes from their bedroom experiment, and Lovino didn't really want to, considering that his younger brother only had dresses to lend to him. He watched as his brother played, keeping his distance.

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino said in response. "Just hurry up!"

Feliciano frowned as he swam towards his brother. "But you'll feel fresh! Don't you feel really dirty and icky right now?" he asked. Lovino shook his head impatiently as he omitted a low growl.

"Of course I do, idiot! But I'm not gonna wear a fucking dress!" he shouted. It was bad enough that he wore them at home. If it were completely up to Antonio, the Italian's whole wardrobe would be full of beautiful dresses. It was only through compromise that Lovino is able to wear the "appropriate" clothes on outings, while he wears the dresses in the Spaniard's home.

"Alright then!" Feliciano called back. "Don't get upset if Tonio asks you why your clothes are dirty!" he teased as he swam back in the other direction. Lovino's face reddened in anger. _When __the __hell __did __he __get __so__..._he thought. He shifted around uncomfortably, knowing his brother was probably right. What would the Spaniard say if he saw him right now in his sticky clothes? Would he figure things out, or would he question it? Either way, it was a no-win situation for Lovino. He heaved a sigh and brought a hesitant hand to his shirt, beginning to unbutton it. Once he was completely stripped of his clothes, he jumped into the water. He shivered at the cold sensation, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Ve~ _Fratello_, I have a question for you~" Feliciano beamed as he moved closer to his brother. Annoyed, Lovino crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said in response. "What the hell do you want?" The younger Italian smiled and let out a light giggle.

"Lovino, since when did you like Tonio?" he asked sincerely. A red shade spilled across the elder Italian's cheeks as his hazel eyes widened. Feliciano couldn't be seriously asking that question, could he? _He__'__s __fucking __crazy__!_ Lovino thought.

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he blurted as he splashed Feliciano's face. The younger Italian took his brother by the shoulders and shook him back and forth. "Ve, but _fratello_! I can tell that you like him!" he whined.

"I _don__'__t_love that stupid bastard!" Lovino declared. "I don't fucking love him..."

The older one's response made Feliciano giggle. "You know, I never said _love_, I said _like_," he pointed out, making Lovino's face even redder. "S-Shut up!" he shouted defensively. "Besides, who told you all this bullshit?"

"Well," Feliciano began, "I was cleaning the library when I saw a box full of books that I haven't seen before. When I looked through them, I saw that there was a lot of romance and stuff~"

Lovino shook his head in disbelief. "So what you're telling me is that everything you know...you read out of some stupid book?" he asked for clarification. The younger one nodded, much to Lovino's annoyance.

"But you know, _fratello_," Feliciano said as he looked down at the water, staring at his own reflection, "I think you're really lucky." With these words, the barrier around Lovino's heart softened as he asked in confusion, "What do you mean?" Feliciano looked up at him, with a different kind of smile on his face. It seemed to be more forced and yet somehow, Lovino could see a hint of his brother's genuine happiness.

"You're lucky because Tonio loves you very, very much."

Lovino splashed his brother again, his face twisted in anger. The jealousy and rage that he'd been hiding all this time was starting to come out on it's own, seeping through Lovino's control. "You're a fucking liar!" he spat as he continued thrashing his arms. With all the water spilling everywhere, Feliciano found it hard to tell whether or not tears were streaming down his brother's face. "That bastard doesn't love me at all!"

"Ve, but _fratello_! It's true!" Feliciano reasoned. "He loves you a lot."

"T-Then why the hell did he try to trade me for you?" Lovino cried, his voice starting to crack. "Everyone likes you more than me!"

"Lovi...Tonio adores you," the younger brother replied, his guilt twisting his stomach. "He spoils you and he's really protective. You're all that he cares about. That's why...you should tell him that you like him, too."

"Idiot!" Lovino shouted. "That goes against everything! It's bad enough that he's my _boss_ and that he's an _adult_, but he's a _man_! Two guys aren't suppose to like each other!"

"But it doesn't matter!" Feliciano argued. "Love is love! If God wanted us to be happy, then he'd let us follow our hearts. If you like Tonio, and he likes you back and you both are happy, then it's okay!"

Lovino turned away, looking back at Roderich's house, which was sitting in the distance. "I-I don't know..." he admitted as he swam back and got out of the water. "I'm not good with these kinds of things..."

Feliciano smiled and went to the edge of the river as well, lifting himself to the ground as Lovino handed him one of the dresses. "Take your time," he said as he slipped on the dress. "Love doesn't happen that fast." The older one shrugged as he put on the other dress hesitantly. Once they were done, they gathered their clothes and began to make their way back.

"Hey, Feliciano," Lovino said. "How do I look?"

The younger brother laughed. "You like fine, Lovi. You look just fine."

* * *

><p><strong>A<strong>**/****N****:** Hey guys~ Sorry for the shortness, but I hope you're enjoying this so far. Sorry that there wasn't something naughty in this chapter, but I hope that the next one will make up for it~ Until next time, everyone! Please review~


	4. With These Innocent Thoughts

**A/N****: **Hey guys! I hope you're all doing good~ Damn finals are killing me OTL. Well, here it is, chapter four!  
><strong><br>Note****: **This takes place a few days after the previous chapter.

Enjoy~

* * *

><p>Lovino locked the bathroom door behind him, a soft, clean towel in his hand. He placed the towel on top of the counter and started to undress himself. He was tired from helping the Spaniard in the fields earlier today and had a hard time trying to convince the older man that he was old enough to take a bath by himself. What was it that Antonio couldn't understand? Couldn't he see that Lovino was a growing boy who needed to learn how to things himself?<p>

Of course he couldn't. To the Spaniard, Lovino was always going to be his little henchman, and someone he had to take care of.

And that was Lovino's fear.

He was never going to notice Lovino as a person, was he? He's _always_ going to be his henchman, his employee, his _servant_. Things were never going to change, as far as Lovino could tell.

The Italian turned the knob, watching as the water streamed out of the tap, filling up the tub. He saw his reflection as it became a distorted figure from the rippling water. Through the deformity of it all, he saw himself, justs a young boy.

_That's all I'll ever be_, he thought. _I'm just a kid._

* * *

><p>Antonio wasn't as perverse as his best friends. No sir, he wouldn't be caught making a perverted joke or a lewd comment, especially in front of other people. His superiors would lecture him all day if he made the slightest remark. He left that to Gilbert and Francis. But that didn't mean that he was unaware of what his body was telling him. Whenever he tensed up and felt a rush of heat, the Spaniard knew the reasoning behind it. And how could he deny his own needs? It would be too cruel to ignore the thoughts he shoved to the back of his mind, the emotions that he buried.<p>

Being a man of faith, it haunted him. He knew that he was going to burn in hell for these thoughts. That round, frustrated face framed with dark brown locks, complemented by those glaring hazel eyes. And, oh! Those rose-kissed cheeks! Lovino was a work of art that Antonio couldn't help but adore!

But it was wrong.

It was _so_ wrong.

He heaved a sigh as he sank further into his bed, his conscience eating at him, slowly killing him. But what could he do? It wasn't like he could control his feelings. You simply can't choose who you hold dear to you, who you love. But even though he couldn't control how the young Italian made him feel, he could still control how much of his affection he could show. He knew that if he ever showed too much love towards Lovino, it would be questioned by his people and the neighboring countries. What would they all think? They would probably think that he was mental and that he had lost his mind.

Antonio shifted around under his sheets, trying to seek comfort from the coolness of his bed. He was going to need it if he was going to get through the night.

* * *

><p>Lovino let the warm water wrap itself around him as he sunk further into the tub. He stared at the water as it soaked in the moonbeams that penetrated the window above him. The Italian lifted his head and gazed out the window and stared at the night sky, lost in it's wonders. He saw how the stars complemented the moon in all it's illuminating glory and how the hazy patches of fog crowned the night. As he sank back into the tub, a small, innocent thought crossed his mind.<p>

_Can he see this in his room?_

What he didn't know was that the Spaniard was on his balcony, the gentle breeze caressing his sun-kissed skin. His bed wasn't as comforting as he thought it would be, so he had to find solace in the Spanish night. He leaned against the railing, staring at the moon, the same small, innocent thought running in his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Hey guys! I kept this short and sweet because boy, is the next chapter going to be long as hell! Things are going to take a turn, ladies and gentlemen! I hope you guys stick around for the next chapter! Until next time~


	5. With These Actions

**A/N****: **Hey everyone~ It's time to get down to business, and no, not to defeat the Huns. I know I said that I was going to make this chapter long...but things came up and well...I ended up with this OTL  
>Oh well...<br>Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter~

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Clashing swords.

Cannons firing.

The vibrating sound of war horses as they trotted by.

To the soldiers, it was a common occurrence. But to the young Italian, it was _sickening_. Every night, he fell asleep to the neighs of the horses as they were forced back into the stables. Every morning, he woke up to the sound of practice rounds as they pierced through red targets. He wasn't sure exactly what the Spaniard and his men had been fighting for. He constantly came home with more bruises and scars than the day before, tired from a violent day. It would be a rare event that Antonio would stay awake long enough to eat dinner, let alone make it through the front door.

But why? Why go through all of the trouble?

That's all Lovino asked himself. He never thought to ask Antonio's boss-he was afraid of the woman, as was the Spaniard. At times, he could hear her shouting across the hall at Antonio for something that he's done or in this case, what he's doing. Of course, Lovino couldn't really understand anything they said in their native language, due to him dozing off in during his Spanish lessons.

The sky was a deep, burnt red, the thin gray clouds sailing on a light breeze as the sun crawled across the sky. As always, the servants had their hands full with chores. However, as Lovino walked down the hallway, his hands occupied with a broom and a dust pan, he noticed that the home seemed more...tense. All of the other servants were trying to be absolutely concise, making ever little thing they did close to perfect.

_Are we going to have a guest or something_, Lovino thought. He shook his head. No, probably not. If they were, Antonio would have rounded everyone up the night before to give them some time to make the mansion spotless. So then if they weren't having a guest over, what was everyone so worked up about?

"What are you, an idiot!"

Lovino flinched, fumbling the broom in his hands. _Wait...isn't that Antonio's boss? _

All of the servants stopped what they were doing, frozen in in the middle of various tasks. Lovino turned around and looked down the hallway, where a door was left ajar. Being the child that he was, his curiosity got the best of him and he slowly crept towards the room, his ears open to the conversation.

"B-But your Majesty," Antonio argued from inside of the room. "I can't afford to lose!"

As Lovino got closer to the room, he rolled his eyes. _Great, the bastard's getting yelled at. Serves him right for being in this stupid battle._

"Are you kidding? We're losing so much money and soldiers just to defend _him_!"

_**Him**_? Lovino thought. _Who is he protecting?_

But before the young Italian could listen more, one of the maids grabbed him by the collar, nearly dragging him away from the door, lecturing him on how he should be more focused on cleaning, that fixing up the place was far more important. The Italian wanted so much to tell her that she was wrong, _so_wrong. She could never understand that Antonio was far more important than doing chores, even if they were his orders. But for now, since she was far more older than he, Lovino had no choice but to listen to her.

Inside of the room, the Spaniard sat across from his boss, his mouth twisted and his arms crossed. (Who knew that he and Lovino could be so much alike at times?) For the past several hours, he had been nagged by his boss, telling him what he can and can't do. All the Spaniard wanted was to protect something precious to him. Was that so wrong? Where was the crime in protecting something-or someone, in this case-you love? What was it that his boss couldn't understand?

"Your Majesty," he sighed, "Lovino is precious-he's just a boy! We can't let someone like Sadiq take him away!"

His boss scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "_He's _not the one that's important!" she spat, tearing into Antonio's heart. If his boss were a normal citizen-specifically a man, as the Spaniard had respect for women-he probably would be in a flying rage, throwing punch after punch. But since this woman was his boss, he had to respect her, even if it was against his will. After all, that was the job of every nation.

"What's important is his land!" she continued. "Think about our people! If we had permanent control over his land, we would gain so much! But as of right now...he's such a burden! We might as well give him up and make it easier for ourselves!" She cleared her throat as he got up from her seat, her faced fixed in frustration. "And another thing," she said as she walked over towards the door, making Antonio gulp. "You're his boss, so act like it! Be more authoritative! You spoil the boy too much!"

Antonio winced and sank back in his seat as his boss left. What could he do? What _should_he do? Lovino is too young, too weak for defend himself from the Ottoman Empire. As far as the Spaniard knew, the Italian didn't even know how to defend himself, so how was he supposed to be expected to raise a sword against Sadiq? Maybe his boss was right and he was spoiling Lovino far too much-no, he wasn't. It was the only way he was able to show his affection for the boy, so it's okay, right? But in the end, did it cause more harm or good? In a situation like this, what was the Spaniard supposed to do? He had to make a decision then and there, for the good of everyone.

He heaved a sigh as he got up from his seat. As he walked towards the door, he adjusted his collar and fixed his gloves. He had some digging up to do, and there was no time to waste.

* * *

><p>There was still some tensity that evening as the Spaniard and the Italian sat next to each other at dinner. They didn't exchange glances, or even speak a word to each other. What could they talk about? Enough was said after Antonio's meeting with his boss.<p>

_After he had spent some time in his study, Antonio went to the garden out in the back, knowing well enough that a certain subordinate of his would be sleeping. And sure enough, there was the young Italian, curled up on his side as his chest rose softly. Antonio gulped as he approached the boy, not knowing what to say. Should he obey his boss' orders? What choice did he have?_

_**Forgive me, my Lovi.**_

_With a reluctance that would haunt him for centuries to come, Antonio kicked the Italian's back, making the boy jump up, startled. As Lovino looked around in panic, Antonio allowed his heart to be hardened for that moment. _

"_What the fuck was that for, you bastard?" Lovino shouted as he rubbed his back._

_Antonio looked down at the boy, a disappointed frown tugging at the corner of his lips. "Tsk, tsk," he said as he shook his head. He kicked the Italian once more, this time with enough force to push the boy back down on his back. His foot remained on Lovino's chest, making him writhe in pain, struggling to escape from the Spaniard's grasp. _

"_Wh-What the hell are you doing to me?" Lovino asked, fear lacing his voice. He wasn't used to the Spaniard being this harsh-correction, he wasn't used to the Spaniard being harsh, ever. "What the fuck's gotten into you?"_

"_Oh, shut your mouth," Antonio muttered, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "You have no right to take a nap while you're on duty."_

"_I'll do whatever the fuck I want!" Lovino protested with a scowl plastered on his face. What does the Spaniard think he's doing?_

"_Looks like I'm going to have to wash that little mouth of yours tonight," Antonio said darkly as he pressed down with more pressure, making the Italian gasp, his lungs searching for air. With a smirk, the Spaniard released the boy and retreated back to the mansion. "Get back to work! I won't tolerate any more of your laziness!" he shouted._

Lovino stared at his bowl of stew, observing as the vegetables sank to the bottom as he pushed them with his spoon. With a sigh, he put down his spoon and pushed back his chair. "I'm going to sleep," he muttered as he pushed the chair back towards the table and walked away. Before he left the dining room, he turned to the Spaniard and clutched the hem of his dress.

"I bit you good night, _nobile_," Lovino said in a mocking tone as he pulled his dress up into a curtsy, making Antonio wince.

_Nobile_. Noble. What was so noble about him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

As Lovino stormed off, Antonio slammed his glass on the table, making a few droplets of wine spilling from it. Great, just great. The Italian, his most beloved person in the world hates him now and thinks nothing but low about him. He was _disgusting_, putrid, despicable. Antonio wasn't surprised that Lovino might possibly hate him now-who was he kidding? He probably hated the Spaniard with a burning intensity as strong as the sun. It would only be natural, right?

But the Italian didn't hate him, even though he had every reason to. The Spaniard forced him to be his servant and takes advantage of his nation's land. No matter what, he didn't hate the Spaniard, no matter how hard he tried. But he was angry. As Lovino stormed off, he slammed his feet with every step he took, letting his anger be known. How could Antonio treat him that way? How could he stop being so nice so quickly? Where was that stupid, caring boss he had always known? Out of all of these questions, one stood out.

_...does he hate me now?_

For all Lovino knew, he was probably right. He was lazy, disobedient and unruly. He was nothing compared to his brother, so why wouldn't Antonio hate him, or at least become annoyed with him by now?

Lovino entered his quarters, closing the door behind him. His room was nothing special, or so he thought. What the Spaniard never told him was that out of all the servants, he had the best room. It was rather spacious for a young boy. He was given a full-size bed that lulled him to sleep every night without fail. He had a small dresser beside his bed with drawers full of enough clothes to last him for the next several months.

He went straight to his bed and buried his face in his pillows. He knew that he couldn't find any comfort in an inanimate object, but there was no harm in trying. The young Italian let out a small cry as a few tears trickled down from his lashes. Why did things have to change all of a sudden? Why did it even bother him in the slightest that things were starting to change? Lovino knew the answer deep down, but he was too afraid to admit it. If he did, what if things changed even more and for the worst? He didn't want that to happen. Where would it leave him?

* * *

><p>Please review~<p> 


	6. With Confusion

**Chapter**** 6**

The next morning, Lovino slipped on his shoes and put on his cloak. He didn't care whether or not the bastard was going to approve, but he was leaving for a day or two. For once, he was going back to his homeland on his own terms.

He went over to his desk, taking out a piece of paper, along with a quill and a small jar of black ink. The Italian knew that if he didn't leave a note, Antonio would probably be upset with him, not that Lovino cared all that much. But after yesterday...who knew what the Spaniard would try to do to him next?

As the ink spread across the paper in Lovino's scribbles, he breathed on the paper in hopes that the ink would dry faster. Once he was done, he folded the note and put his writing utensils away.

The lights in the hallway weren't on, meaning that everyone was still asleep, that the coast was clear. Lovino crept out of his room and closed the door behind him as quietly as he could. Once the door clicked shut, he sprung down the hall on light feet, hoping to God that no one would hear him. He rushed down the stairs, his heart racing. _This__is__so__stupid_, he thought. He was running away like the coward he was. But he was still a child, and to fear another person, child or not, was completely natural. When he made it to the front door, he looked back at the house, wondering if this was the right decision. Whether or not it was, he shook off his suspicions and left the mansion.

The cold air nearly smacked Lovino's face, making his cheeks and nose turn red. As a shiver went down his spine, he pulled his hood over his head and began to run, not knowing where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get away so that he could think it all over. Why did things have to be so fucking difficult? Since when did that feeling in his chest get tighter and so unmanageable whenever he thought of the Spaniard?

"That goddamn fucker," he muttered as he adjusted his cloak. Did it always feel so tight around his neck? It was as if he was being smothered, like a small flame being snuffed out by the wind. As he continued on the trail that lead to the main road, Lovino couldn't help but constantly tug at his cloak.

_As __far __as __he __knew__, __this __was __going __to __be __the __longest __night __for __the __Italian__. __After __unleashing __his __sadness __into __his __pillow__, __he __lied __on __his __bed__, __facing __the __ceiling__. __He __knew __there __wasn__'__t __much __he __could __do __to __change __his __current __situation__, __so __all __he __can __do __is __sit __back __and __let __everything __happen__. __That__'__s __**all **__he __could __do__, __right__?_

_**That **__**stupid **__**asshole**__**, **__he __kept __thinking__._

_Lost __in __thought__, __the __Italian __wasn__'__t __able __to __hear __the __soft __knocks __on __the __door__, __or __the __Spaniard __calling __to __him __from __the __other __side__. __At __first__, __Antonio __was __hesitant__. __He __was __never __in __a __situation __like __this __before__. __He __found __it __strange __that __he __could __fight __off __pirates __and __explore __uncharted __lands__, __and __yet __be __terrified __when __it __came __to __this __young __boy__. __Antonio __shifted __from __side __to __side__, __wondering __if __he __should __try __knocking __again__, __or __just __leave __the __boy __be__. __But __he __knew __he __just __couldn__'__t __leave __the __boy __alone __like __this__..._

"_Hey __Lovino__," __he __said __again __in __a __louder __voice__, __his __fingertips __barely __grazing __the __wooden __door__._

_The __young __boy __rubbed __his __eyes__. __What __should __he __do__? __Should __he __let __the __bastard __come __in__, __or __tell __him __to __leave__? __But __knowing __the __Spaniard__, __he __would __probably __come __in__. __No __matter __what__, __Lovino __didn__'__t __want __to __be __seen __like __this__. __His __eyes __were __still __swollen __from __his __tears__, __and __his __face __was __growing __pale__. _

"_W__-__What __the __fuck __do __you __want__?" __he __shouted __in __response__._

_Antonio __heaved __a __sigh__, __his __boss__' __words __continuously __echoing __in __his __mind__. __He __didn__'__t __really __have __much __of __a __choice__, __did __he__?_

"_Lovino__, __I__'__m __coming __in__," __Antonio __said __as __he __grasped __the __doorknob __with __a __shaking __hand__. __As __he __entered __the __room__, __Lovino __straightened __up __and __sat __up __on __his __bed__, __his __arms __crossed__. __He __managed __to __put __on __an __angry __expression__. __After __all__, __he __was __still __upset __with __this __man__. __He __focused __his __sight __on __the __ground__, __not __wanting __to __meet __the __Spaniard__'__s __eyes__. __If __he __did__, __what __would __he __see__? __Would __he __see __the __stupid __boss __that __had __taken __care __of __him __all __along__? __Or __would __he __see __a __stranger__?_

"_Get __the __fuck __out __of __my __room__!" __Lovino __shouted__. "__I __fucking __hate __it __when __assholes __like __you __come __in __here __without __asking__!"_

_In __a __moment__, __Antonio __walked __up __to __the __Italian __and __grabbed __his __jaw__, __clenching __it __in __his __hand__. __He __inspected __the __boy__'__s __face__, __taking __note __of __the __fear __behind __those __eyes__. __How __his __lips __quivered __at __the __rush__, __and __how __those __tears __began __to __form__, __ready __to __fall __from __those __beautiful __lashes__...__Antonio __knew __that __he __could __never __forgive __himself __for __this__._

"_What __did __I __say __about __your __language__?" __he __asked __deeply__, __his __eyes __filling __with __a __coldness __that __made __Lovino__'__s __heart __struggle__. __Since __when __did __it __get __so __hard __to __breathe__? _

"_G__-__Get __the __fuck __off __of __me__!" __Lovino __choked__. _

_Antonio __shook __his __head __in __disappointment __as __a __frown __formed __on __his __lips__. __When __was __this __boy __ever __going __to __learn __to __think __before __he __spoke__? __The __Spaniard __released __his __grip __on __the __Italian __and __backed __away__, __his __eyes __still __cold__. _

"_This __is __going __to __be __the __last __time __I__'__ll __show __mercy __towards __you__," __he __muttered __as __he __left __the __room__. _

Lovino lifted his head and saw that the main road was nearby. Without hesitation, he raced over toward the side of the road, not wanting to be seen by anyone. He knew that no one was up this early, but he just wanted to be sure. He continued down the road, watching as the sunlight leaked from the horizon, spilling into the dark sky.

When the Italian thought about it, he didn't exactly _plan_ where he was going. He just knew that no matter where he'll end up, he'll be thinking of one person, and one person only.

* * *

><p><strong>A<strong>**/****N****: **Let me apologize for the shortness. My brain's being all derp and stuff.  
>Anyways, kinda lame ending to this chapter, I know, but I have a little something...planned for the next chapter. And because of the way the next chapter is laid out in my mind...well, let's just say I chose to end this chapter the way I did because my plans are just dsjfkashflkshflsjh XD<p>

*ahem* Anyways...please review!

And thank you to those who've been giving thoughtful reviews~ Whenever I check my email and see that someone's left a review, or added this story to their faves/alerts, it makes me happy and makes me want to continue~ So thanks everyone~ :3


	7. With My Brother: Part Three

**Chapter 7**

**A/N:** Hey guys! It's been a while—at least, to me it feels that way—since I've updated. So here it is, chapter seven!

* * *

><p>As the young Italian entered the city, he was amazed at how much it changed. After living with Holy Rome, Roderich and Elizaveta, he spent most of his days in the mansion tending to his chores and such. Even though he wanted so much to see his grandfather's home, where he was born and raised alongside Lovino, he wasn't allowed to leave the mansion. The evening breeze was soft against the Italian's skin as he rushed through the Roman streets with a woven basket filled loaves of bread, cheese and his older brother's favorite food in the entire world: tomatoes, in his hands. Feliciano held the basket close to his chest, the steam of the fresh bread keeping him warm. He knew that he was probably going to be in trouble for what he was doing, this being the third day of him sneaking food here and there. But he had to. It was his duty as a brother, to his brother. Of course, even though it was something he had to do, Feliciano would be lying if he said that he wasn't scared. After all, Roderich wouldn't hesitate scolding him and locking him in solitary confinement for the rest of the night.<p>

Night fell quickly, and Feliciano knew that if he intended to get back home—late or not—he had to do this quick. As he quickened his pace, he saw his destination ahead of him, the Coliseum. It was already aged by the wind as time passed on and on. This saddened Feliciano and his brother, as it was one of the few remainders they had of their life with their grandfather. If it disappeared completely...the young Italian shook his head. He didn't even want to consider what would happen. Instead, he continued on his way to the Coliseum.

Long, long ago, when their grandfather passed away, Lovino knew that the other nations were going to come after them and pick up the pieces of the shattered, once-great empire their grandfather built. The day after he died, Lovino and Feliciano both promised—much to the older Italian's persistence—that if either were either of them were in trouble that they seek solace in the Coliseum. It was the only place that seemed to soothe both brothers, whenever they were sad, angry or lonely. It was a place for both of them to be.

_Oh, no,_ Feliciano thought as he walked on. _The bread's getting colder..._He knew there was no more time to waste. He picked up his pace, speeding through the streets until he finally reached the entrance of the Coliseum.

The darkness of the night blanketed the structure, making it hard for Feliciano to see beyond the entrance. He peered his head into the entrance, the moon casting his shadow from behind, making his shadow mix and linger with the darkness. He took a few hesitant steps before inhaling slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

"_Fratello!_" he called out into the darkness, hoping for an immediate reply. It's not that he was inpatient, but standing in the dead of night at the entrance of an otherwise abandoned structure...who wouldn't be scared? "Fratello, it's me, Feliciano! Are you there?"

"Yeah! I'm in the arena!" Lovino shouted, his strong voice echoing its way to his brother.

Feliciano merely nodded, not that the other Italian could see him. With a cowardly gulp, the young Italian walked further into the darkness. The further he ventured in, the closer the moonlight from the arena became. What was it like, Feliciano wondered, to be living in such darkness? There was no warmth, no strength, no defense, nothing. Everything was unknown.

"Stop where you are!"

The young Italian flinched at his brother's orders. Where was his brother? It was too dark for Feliciano to tell. He looked around, the darkness continuing. Didn't his brother feel lonely in this place? Wasn't he glad that someone knew where he was, and wanted to keep him company? With wavering hands, Feliciano tried his best to keep the contents of the basket from spilling onto the cold ground.

"I-I brought you some food," he said quietly, gripping the rim of the basket. "A-And I'm planning on coming back tomorrow to bring you some clothes..."

"Just leave the basket where you are," Lovino said sharply, not even bothering to show his face to Feliciano.

Not knowing what else to do, Feliciano set the basket down at his feet and slowly backed away. Was this what his brother really wanted?

"You know," the younger said nervously, "you're welcome in Holy Rome's house. I can hide you in the—"

"—no! I'm not going anywhere!" Lovino cut in. "I'm not going back to that bastard's house, and there's no way in hell I'm living with that pampered pianist and that brat!"

"But it's not safe to stay here!" Feliciano reasoned, tears filling his eyes. "What if the Turks try to take you away again? I-I don't want to lose my brother that way!" By now, the young Italian's tears left the comfort of his lashes and streamed down his face, looking for comfort as they fell to the ground.

"...Feliciano," Lovino breathed, much to the younger Italian's surprise. It was rare for the older to address the younger by his name, and as foreign as it was, it made Feliciano happy, but at the same time, sad. "What is it?" Feliciano asked.

"I-I was thinking..." Lovino continued, still hidden in the darkness, "that maybe it was time that we become independent from Antonio and Roderich. We don't need them."

"Yes we do!" Feliciano replied immediately, leaving Lovino stunned. "_Fratello_, I know it's bad now, but we're still...grandpa wouldn't let us take care of the land by ourselves! We're too young!"

_Is he serious?_

Lovino let out a scoff. "You just want protection, you idiot! We can't depend on those bastards forever!"

"I'm not saying that it'll be forever!" Feliciano argued.

"J-Just go! Get out of here!" Lovino snapped. "Go back home!" What was his brother thinking? Why would he want to stay with someone else and live according to their rules?

Feliciano stomped his foot down. Who knew that he and Lovino could share the same traits? "This place is my home just as much as it is yours!"

"N-No it's not! As a nation...you're Veneziano!" the older spat. "You're Venice. Me...I'm...I'm Romano! I'm the only one out of the two of us that should be allowed here!"

Why was Lovino being so hard headed, when he was the one that suggested that both of them go there if they were ever in trouble? And didn't he just say that they should become independent? So then why is he trying to claim his territory and push Feliciano away?

"_Fratello..._I only want to help..." the younger one murmured.

"Well maybe I don't need your help! I can do everything on my own!" Lovino shouted, his angered echoes overwhelming Feliciano.

"O-Okay then," Feliciano said, surrendering a fight he knew that he couldn't win. "Please, eat some of the food." As he began to walk back towards the light, leaving his brother, Feliciano could have sworn that he heard footsteps following behind him. When he turned around, he heard shifting, as if someone was eating...

Feliciano smiled softly to himself and stared back into the darkness. "Good night, Lovino," he said before turning back around to go home. "Sweet dreams. I'll be praying for you."

As the young Italian left the Coliseum, he realized that he didn't care if the Austrian would yell at him that night. He didn't care as long as he knew his brother was eating and that he was safe for the time being.

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN:** Hey guys~ I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time! Please review! :3


End file.
